The Ruins
by Galaxystar
Summary: The Guardians commanded the elements at will and crushed all evil who dared cross their path. They were neither human nor demon, but it was apparent to all who bore witness to their greatness that they were not wholly of this earth. Sere/Endy Senshi/Gen


A/N: Hi! It's Galaxystar and I'm back with a brand new story. This idea has been bouncing around for nearly a week now and I just had to get it out. I promise to continue, if people end up liking the story, so please, please, please review! I accept all types of reviews and if you have any questions or comments feel free to message me at: bookworm_diva(at)yahoo(dot)com. Also, I apologize for any errors you may find. (I'll go back over it in the morning!) It's really, really late right now and I'm very tired, but I just had to get this posted! Please let me know what you think!!! Bye!

The Ruins: Prologue

* * *

It was the year 3012, the year of the Wolf.

It was a year marked by war, chaos, and inescapable death.

Lifeless corpses littered the crowded streets, vanquished by disease, poverty, and most of all:

The Negaverse.

Led by the diabolical Queen Beryl, she and her minions made it their mission to destroy any and every living creature they encountered. The decimated towns, burned homes. They took pleasure in the chaos and left little more than smoldering cities and charred bodies in their wake.

Dark and twisted, they were the purest evil that mankind had ever faced.

The putrid stench of evil clung to the Witch and her followers like a second skin, and she reveled in the pain she brought forth. She tortured women and children, young and old, for the sheer enjoyment; their bloodcurdling screams aroused her more than any man ever could. Her underlings were as equally demented and twisted as she.

Some were Youma. Some were human.

And all had sworn allegiance to their Dark Queen.

They pillaged, sacked, and plundered in her name. They raped women in the streets, young and old, and publicly gutted all who resisted. They were never sated, never satisfied. The fetid stench of death only served to excite them more.

It was the year 3012. And it seemed as if all hope was truly lost.

***

For seven years Queen Beryl's armies wrought death and destruction wherever they ventured.

Her reign of terror knew no bounds and, it seemed, would never know an end. It was said that she bathed in the blood of the fallen, that she cut out and consumed the hearts of her enemies who had been slain on the battlefield.

As the years passed, the resistance against Beryl nad her forces of evil began to weaken. Numbers began to dwindle, and eventually who kingdoms began to surrender without a struggle. These people accepted death, welcomed it, faced it openly in the crowded streets. Some even allowed a hint of a smile to grace their lips as they felt the steel blade pierce their tired flesh. Hope was gone, and in the eyes of the world, and the mind of Beryl…

She had won.

***

In the year 2019, much of world lay in ruins. Temples and palaces, homes and theatres…

All had been reduced to little more than charred rubble. The smell of blood and war permeated the streets. Panic nestled in the hearts and minds of the living. And death came swiftly to those who refused to stay out the way. The world that had once been a mix of vibrant hues no longer existed. Instead a world of grey and black shadows had been thrust mercilessly in its place.

The rich and the poor huddled together as one, neither group above the other. There was no class, no stations. Money and material wealth meant little. The only thing that mattered anymore was survival.

***

And then _they_ appeared. Five men, each with the strength of a God and the soul of a demon, rose up to lead a resistance against the forces of the Negaverse.

_They _were known as _The Guardians._

Swift and powerful, each was a force to be reckoned with on, and off, the battlefield. And their leader was the most fearsome of them all.

They commanded the elements at will and crushed an evil who dared step in their way. They were neither human nor demon, but it was apparent to all who bore witness to their greatness that they were not wholly of this earth. It was said that Endymion and his men straddled the worlds of the Afterlife. That they had one foot planted firmly in the doorways of heaven, and the other in the gates of Hell.

Endymion and his fellow Guardians did little to dispel the rumors, instead they used them to intimidate. Instead they continued to stoke the flames of fear in the hearts of both good and evil.

No mortal dared to question their orders, and those who were foolish enough to cross swords with a General were not allowed to live. To ignore a direction or to defy a command were grounds for immediate death.

Together, united as one, the Guardians and the rebels continued to beat back Beryl's forces. The lengthy battles sometimes went on for days, until it seemed as if every inch of pavement was splattered with blood.

Blood was shed and comrades were lost, but the resistance continued to push on. Battle after battle, life after life, they continued to fight…continued to move, until it became clear to Beryl that they would never surrender.

The Guardians would never admit defeat, and they would never permit death. Survival was their only option.

They knew no other way.

***

The Dark Queen was forced to watch as her evil forces were depleted. She refused to retreat, and any soldier caught doing so would face death. All she had worked for, all the lives she had taken, all her plans...were slowly coming undone before her very eyes.

And yet she continued to fight, even as her once-loyal followers began to abandon her. Grasping at straws, Beryl began to deploy her strongest fighters in hopes that at least one of the Guardians would be slain in battle. But unfortunately for her, that day never came.

Beryl's forces crumbled and her strength slowly began to wane. The majority of minions had either been destroyed in battle or had fled out of fear. And all the while the Guardians and their pathetic band of 'Merry Men' were drawing ever closer. Should they be allowed to gain access to her own kingdom, she knew that there would be no mercy.

Only death.

Death was unacceptable, and defeat was inexcusable. Her time had not yet come, but she also knew that if she were to remain alive that she would have to relinquish what little she had left.

Beryl, The Almighty Queen of Darkness, was going to have to retreat, for now.

But she would never give up. For now she would step back and let the Guardian's have their precious victory. She would be back, and when she returned she would destroy them and everything they held dear.

Beryl would never surrender.

***

On the eve of the assault on her fortress, Beryl sent a missive to the leader of the rebel troops.

Her messengers were weak looking creatures, with sunken faces and blackened teeth. They were, Endymoin determined, of little threat.

The braver of the two called out to him as the made their way towards him.

"Sire!"

Endymion stared him down, his eyes cold and unrelenting while his hand remained on the hilt of his sword.

'We have word from Queen Beryl.'

Without a word Endymion held out his hand to accept the missive. He scanned it quickly, letting the words sink in.

Victory.

Finally, as the men began to grow anxious, he crumbled the parchment in his fist and turned to them.

"The Witch has surrendered!"

His voice, powerful and deep, thundered across the open field and sent his men into a fit of long-overdue celebration.

The man who had previously remained silent fell to his knees.

"Please!" He begged while grabbing hold of his comrade's shirt and pulling him down as well. "Your Grace!" His voice seemed to quaver and stumble over every word. "We-we throw ourselves upon your m-m-mercy. We renounce all t-t-ties and forsake all loyalties to the N-Negaverse and Queen Beryl!"

His hands gripped Endymion's boot, refusing to let go.

"Please Sire!" He whimpered softly, with warm tears threatening to spill over onto cold cheeks. "Our lives are yours to command."

'Hmm.' Endymion shook the man off his leg and eyed the other man. It was obvious to all that he was thinking.

Feeling the weight of Endymion's gaze on him, the other man managed to croak out a strangled "Please".

For the first time that day, a hint of a smile found it's way to the new King's lips.

"Fine. If it's _my _mercy you want, then you shall have it."

"Oh, thank you Sire! Thank you! Thank you!"

Endymion sighed and beckoned two of his fellow Guardians to join him.

"Sire?"

He nodded in the direction of the two, still simpering men.

"They are yours and their lives are of little importance to me. Do with them what you will and let that be the end of it."

His eyes once again focused on the messengers kneeling forms.

"There is no room in my kingdom for traitors, you spineless, gutless worms! You asked for my mercy, and your request was granted, but what you failed to ask for, was the mercy of my men in their entirety."

He paused as the two Guardians to his left obediently drew their swords.

"And for that mistake, you will die."

"No! Your Majesty Please—!"

"Silence!" Endymion barked menacingly. "Jade? Malachai?"

"Yes Sire?"

"Kill them."

Endymion turned his back on the now openly weeping cowards and began to make his way back to his horse. He mounted quickly, having done so many times before and made his way back to camp.

Tonight they would celebrate.

* * *

It was the year 3020. And the war was over.

* * *

~End~ (Thanks for Reading! Now Please Review!)


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